


Shadow Wolves Origins

by Midnight_Peanut_Gallery



Series: Shadow Pack [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Altaïr Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Both of them are stubborn as hell, Cuddles - All media types ;), Eventual Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Eventual role reversal, Familial/Pack bonding, Life Mates, M/M, Malik Being an Asshole, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Origin Story, Prequel, Underworld mechanics, Werewolves are immortal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Peanut_Gallery/pseuds/Midnight_Peanut_Gallery
Summary: Malik and Altaïr's story. Basically one of two prequels that are too long to put into the main story.





	Shadow Wolves Origins

The scent of a foreign alpha permeated the air of the cave, along with that of multiple humans....and death itself. Being an alpha himself, and the scent foreign to the Holy Land and vaguely familiar in one of the most painful ways, Altaïr felt multiple emotions trying to dictate how he should handle the threat. Anger, that the foreign intruder dared set foot in his homeland after the last time he'd smelled this scent, was by far the strongest. He didn't feel anything else when he'd slid his blade into a man's temple just because he was in the way. "Fortune favors your blade.", Kadar complimented, grinning widely. Malik scoffed, and crossed his arms, a sneer dominating his features.

"You disrespect our Creed by tainting your blade with innocent blood. You have now broken two tenants. What's next? Are you going to break the third? Will you compromise the Brotherhood?" "Malik, enough! I outrank you. You follow my lead, whatever I decide. Besides, I have a feeling we're walking into an ambush." "So now you're paranoid? Excuses." "Why would Al Mualim send us into a trap?", Kadar asked. "I don't know, Kadar. All I know is that my instincts don't like this place." "Your animal senses tingling, Altaïr?", Malik taunted. Altaïr shot him a golden glare.

Malik found himself struck silent when Altaïr's eyes met his. The bright molten gold orbs seemed to cut through him, as he realized that maybe, just maybe, Altaïr wasn't being his usual arrogant self. Maybe they were being led into a trap. Then again, Altaïr's senses were overly sensitive, and tended to set him off for seemingly no reason. He hadn't transformed, so maybe he doubted, too? After all, why would Al Mualim, the man who practically raised the Eagle, send him into a trap?

Malik knew that Altaïr was a werewolf. The entire Brotherhood knew. However, he was only recently able to get a handle on his emotions. Senses, on the other hand, he still had to learn to deal with, even after three years. Kadar had already admired the Master Assassin, but this made it worse. He always got excited around the Eagle. Starstruck would be an accurate word to use, but after the first transformation, Altaïr had complained to Malik about Kadar being his very vocal shadow, although he tried to be patient with the curious human.

Coming out of his thoughts, Malik found himself staring into a large room, scaffolding lining the walls. Especially the far wall, where he saw the resting place of the treasure his team was sent to retrieve, but the treasure itself was missing. He looked over at Altaïr when he heard a death promising growl rip from the other man's throat. His dark eyes widened when he saw two places on his head push against the hood. Altaïr was half-shifted.

"Altaïr! Calm down! We need to think this through! Do not compromise the Brotherhood!", he whispered harshly. Unfortunately, it was too late. "Ah! I thought I sensed another of my kind. Funny. I thought I was sensing a change in one of my men. What has your Master sent you for?" "The treasure, but I'm here for my own reason.", Altaïr growled in response. He could sense this alpha was much older than himself, and therefore, more experienced, and possibly stronger.

"Oh? And what might that be?" "Your life." With that, he pounced, only to have his hands caught in a death grip. The Frenchman laughed as Altaïr struggled to drive the unsheathed hidden blade through his skull, hearing Malik and Kadar fighting the foreigners behind him. "You think yourself righteous in your cause, don't you, pup? You kill simply because you've been ordered to, without asking the reason behind why. You would be wise to turn your search inward." "Who are you to lecture me?! Of what do you speak?!"

Altaïr began to fully transform, only to be tossed from the room like a doll. A wall of rock had fallen, blocking the tunnel and sealing him away from the room, and his comrades. He pulled a fallen boulder from the base of the block only for more to fall, hindering his progress more than helping. He had to get back to his team. He tried to find a way over. A small hole. Something! Nothing. Just rock. He sighed heavily, hearing the pained screams of the brothers, knowing there was nothing he could do. He realized he had no choice but to leave when he heard more boulders falling, signalling the beginning of a tunnel collapse.

\------------

Pain. That was all he knew. He couldn't feel anything else. Kadar lay in bloody pieces around the room, and Altaïr was likely on his way back to Masyaf. 'He's deserted us.', Malik thought bitterly. He knew the Master Assassin had been thrown from the room, but he didn't have to leave them there to die! Before him stood a giant grey werewolf, no doubt the Frenchman that had thrown his comrade. Malik tried to scramble away, but he couldn't move fast enough, injured as he was.

"I send you as a message to your Master.", the werewolf said. Then he grabbed Malik's injured arm in seemingly iron jaws, making the assassin scream in pain as he felt the bone crunch and puncture his flesh from the inside. The Syrian noticed the wolf was still holding the treasure, and grabbed it when he was thrown from the temple. Luckily, the were didn't seem to notice the slight of hand, which allowed the injured assassin time to get on his horse, and high tail it back to Masyaf.

It was a long ride. Between the pain in his arm and dizziness from bloodloss, Malik lost all track of time. Both before he knew it, and far too long coming, the gates of Masyaf loomed before him. The guards saw his state, and acted quickly to get him inside the fort. "Al Mualim! I have done what your favorite could not, and retrieved the treasure." He got shocked looks from both Al Mualim and Altaïr. "Malik?" "What of Kadar?" "Kadar...my brother...he's dead! And you!", he pointed at Altaïr, "You left us!" "I was thrown from the room! There was nothing I could do!" "Did you even try to get back in before they tore my brother apart?!" "Yes! I searched for a way back in, but the rocks kept falling! I would have been burried beneath them if I hadn't left!"

"Enough! Malik, Altaïr has told me there was a werewolf waiting for you at Solomon's Temple. Is this true?" "Yes, it is true." "Did he bite you?" Malik cringed noticeably. "Answer me!" "Yes, he did." "I'm sorry.", then Al Mualim turned to the guards that escorted the wounded assassin to the library, "Make sure he's seen to, then take him down to the dungeons." "Master?" "Tonight is the full moon." "No! Please! You can't put me down there!" "Altaïr will be with you."

\-----------

The next few hours saw Malik's injured arm amputated, Masyaf attacked and Malik practically thrown into a cell. "NO! Please! You can't put me in here!" "I'm sorry, Malik. Altaïr has told me that the first time is the worst, so we must do what we can to ensure you don't harm anyone." With that, Al Mualim and the guards walked away. The finality of the clang of the dungeon door saw the assassin sinking to his knees.

After an indescernable amount of time, the door creaked open again, and Altaïr was led in by what seemed to be a legion of guards. They deposited him in the same cell, locked the door, and left. "Why couldn't they put you in another cell?" "This is the newest one. The bars and door are the strongest we have." "Am I going to die tonight?" Altaïr scoffed. His next words contained surprisingly little bite, but were still pretty far from gentle, "Look. You actually might not even transform tonight." "Arrogant as always, I see." "I need to speak with you, Malik. For your safety and others'." "Great. I guess I have to listen."

"That werewolf was another alpha. That's one reason why I was so upset earlier." "Is this sympathy I hear in your words?" "Don't get used to it. There are some things you should know before sunset." "Out with it, then." "The moon has little sway over our transformations. You know I can transform at will. You might not transform tonight, as you were bitten only a few days ago. From the stories my mother told me when I was a child, I'd say you wouldn't transform for a few more days at the least. I knew he bit you, Malik. Not by your arm, but by your scent. It's changing." "You're not going to do anything to me, are you?" "Nothing that will harm you."

\-------------

Malik started sweating as the sun set, his nerves getting to him. He was anxious to get out, not wanting to wait for Altaïr to prove the moon's lack of sway over him. "Have you ever seen a werewolf transform?", Altaïr asked. "I'm not anxious to see it.", Malik retorted. The Eagle stared blankly at him, then said, "Kadar always asked me about it. I figured you'd share his curiosity." "You figured wrong."

"I'm going to transform tonight, Malik." "What happened to 'The moon has little sway'?" "I feel more powerful on these nights, but I could stay in human form if I wished. Your arm also needs to be properly seen to, as it already smells of the beginning of infection. Use this as a learning opportunity." "Go on, then." "What happened to 'I'm not anxious to see it'?" "Shut up. I'm not, but go on if you're going to anyway." Altaïr sighed, and started to strip. "What are you doing?" "I just got these. I don't want to ruin them, lest you wish me naked tomorrow."

Malik shook his head, trying to will away the resulting image of a very naked Altaïr, trying to forget a similar image a few feet from him. He then heard pained groaning, and snapped his attention back to the other man. He saw Altaïr's face and body elongate, his shoulders and chest broaden a bit, skin darken and thick dark sandy fur sprout from his skin. The werewolf shook, starting from his face, and ending with his tail, then he stretched, joints popping loudly. "That looks painful.", Malik noted. Altaïr shook his now larger head, "Just growing pains." Malik noticed his voice was rougher in this form.

The human shook away the thought as soon as it had formed. What he did next shouldn't have surprised Malik. Altaïr was sniffing his bandages. They were bloody, and probably needed to be changed, but no one was willing to do so at the time. Malik punched Altaïr's nose, earning a harsh growl from the were, then a ragged exhale. "It's going to get infected if you don't let me help you!" "Why do you want to help me?! You abandoned us!" "I tried to get back in earlier! We've been over this! I can help you heal if you'll let me!"

Malik didn't know what came over him, but he turned his head, eyes downcast. He wanted to be defiant, but his body had other plans. Altaïr took it as a sign of submission, and proceeded to unwrap what was left of the arm. "It shouldn't have been unwrapped so easily.", Malik noted. "It was done by a Novice.", Altaïr added. "She did say her Master was busy with other patients at the time, but it needed to be bandaged." Malik gasped when the forming scabs ripped off. "That shouldn't happen. Her Master needs to take time to teach before allowing her to take on patients." "I believe he forced her."

Altaïr gave him a disbelieving look, but there was something else swimming in his golden gaze. He looked away too quickly for Malik to identify the emotion. Malik felt his larger tongue rasp gently over the wound, and his own spine and lower abdomen tingle at the sensation as well as feeling the flesh knit back together under the were's attention. "Altaïr? What are you doing?" He didn't get an answer for a while, and felt shame as his spine and belly continued to tingle. He shouldn't feel like this! 'What's happening to me?'

"A-Altaïr?" The stutter caught the were's attention. Malik just didn't stutter. "What's happening to me?" Briefly, Altaïr wondered if he should tell him, then decided it would be better if he did, at least as well as he could, "You were bitten by an alpha wolf." "What relevance does that hold, Altaïr?! What's happening to me?!" "Malik! Calm yourself! It will do no good for me to explain when you can't understand!" "Then make me understand! Tell me!" A slap echoed throughout the dungeon.

Altaïr completely morphed back into human form when Malik started to feel the pain of the slap, bringing the hysterical assassin back to his senses. "You hit me." "I had to bring you back to your senses. I can help you, but I need you to have a clear head. You need you to have a clear head. Do you understand?" Malik nodded, "I understand." "Good. We'll talk more in the morning. You have questions. Ask me. Tonight, just come to terms with the fact that your human life is over. You need to if you want to survive."

\-------------

The next morning saw Altaïr awake early. He dressed before settling down to sleep after Malik had his breakdown the previous night. He was surprised to wake up to find the turning assassin curled up to him, making his changing scent seem that much more powerful. The Eagle's brow furrowed. He knew Malik was turning into an omega, and knew he had to explain that to him. He also knew he wouldn't take it well. Not to mention he had no idea how to go about it, but he would try when he was asked again.

Altaïr remembered how he was as a newly turned pup. He craved physical contact. Cuddle sessions especially, although he would never admit to it. He was scolded when he tried. Luckily, his father wasn't around to see it, not even fully understanding his mother's urges and needs, which ultimately led to her death. Not that he knew his father well, anyway, but knew he would have been shamed by his son's nature. He was pulled from his musings when the squeaking of the dungeon door caught his ears.

"Ah! You both survive the night! How does he fair?" "He needs time to heal, Master. He will become a danger if he doesn't heal properly." "Then I assign you to be his guardian until such a time. I also strip you of your rank until such a time when you've learned the meaning of our Creed. Consider yourself lucky that this is your punishment." With that, Al Mualim walked away, leaving the guards to unlock the cell door.


End file.
